


So Much To Regret

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:36:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set three years after Sherlock's apparent death. John Watson is alone and Sherlock wants nothing more than to come back to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Much To Regret

**Author's Note:**

> Both in John's and Sherlock's point of views.

Dr. John H. Watson

There's so much I wanted to tell you. So much I regret that I never let you know, so much even a man of your deduction ability could never have noticed. Why you ask? Why, even when you are the best a man could hope for in your line of work? Because this is something even you wouldn't understand. 

It's cold here. It's the streets of London during winter, of course it is, but whenever you were here for some reason I just never noticed how freezing it really was. You made me warm inside, like home was truly where my heart was, and my heart is with you. I want you here to keep me warm Sherlock. Stop being so selfish and come back. Please. Don't. Be. Dead.

\--

Sherlock Holmes

There's so much more that I wanted to say as I stood on that roof looking down at you, nothing but a smudge that I wish I could have better seen, but at the time I didn't think you're normal mind would fully understand. Seeing as though it was something someone as highly functioning as me couldn't quite put their finger on. 

I have never truly understood emotions. Of course I could deduct a person's feelings from what I simply observed, but I'd never understood the point of them. I'd never discovered the function of a smile upon my own lips until you came into my life, someone so small and insignificant. What makes you so different from everyone else? Maybe it's your determination or your potential... Or maybe it's because you were the first to accept me and praise me, making me feel like I belonged somewhere for once. By your side. And knowing I can no longer be there hurts my heart. I cried on that ledge on that day because I realised how much I would miss you standing by me reminding me how brilliant I was. I understand now. As I watch you day after day I realised what sadness is. I saw it in your face, every time you thought no one was looking. Something Molly Once said to me... I'm sad when you're not looking John. Not because I fake being gleeful to keep you pleased, but because I'm grateful for you, my friend. My best friend. I've fallen for you in so many ways. I can't be alone any longer. I'm coming back John. Please don't hate me. I just needed to protect you.

You walk ahead of me. Not even noticing someone following your trail. You're deep in thought with your head hung low and shoulders slumped over toward the floor. Your hands are stuffed into your black jacket's pockets, keeping them warm from the bone chilling cold. The rings around your eyes are dark even though it's been three years, you haven't slept in the past eleven days. You see your therapist once a week, she still tells you you have trust issues. You've recently been diagnosed with depression and insomnia. They think you are a risk to yourself. You think you like that risk. I don't. You think I'm dead, but you don't want to accept it. If I didn't know better I'd think you want to be back with me.

"John." I call quietly, waiting for your response. I stop my feet on the wet, rain-drenched pavement below and wonder if all it is is that you hadn't heard me. "John." I call again although this time louder. I see you still for a fraction of a second and your head just flinches to turn back, but you prevent the urge and continue to put one foot in front of the other. You haven't forgotten my voice or you would've turned back anyway, you can hear me, you'd never be ignoring me... I'm here John. I came back for you. I am not a figure of your imagination. 

You reach up to three hundred and thirty four meters from my reach, escaping around the corner of Tescos. I stand here in the middle of this path frozen in shock, speechless, craving the pure bliss of our reunion. "John!" I shout to the top of my voice, something I rarely do. Sprinting after you in haste my eyes dart back and forth round my scenery. You and your black and white striped jumper are no where to be seen. I've lost you.

\--

Dr. John H. Watson

I lug the bag of groceries up the stairs, the bottom dragging along each bump on the way up. I can't remember when I stopped bothering with things as simple as this. Probably when I stopped caring about who I was shopping for. I ignore Mrs Hudson on the way in. She sees me wonder in and quickly she ducks her head away violently avoiding eye contact as she marches her way down stairs. She doesn't like to talk to me when I'm in this bad of a mood. I really am terrible.

I walk to the kitchen, dumping the bags untidily onto the table grabbing the milk and throwing it into the fridge wherever it fits. I've stopped going out for dinner and I'm not much of a cook. I spend most nights sitting in front of the telly eating instant meals wearing your bed sheet wrapped around me, it slowly starting to smell more like me than you're naked body, and yet again this will be my night. With my brain lagging slightly I wobble tiredly over to the microwave with TV dinner in hand, chucking it in and setting it for three minutes. Three minutes of nothing but the silence and the irritating buzz of the machine. I walk out of the kitchen dropping down to the chair sat just inside the other room. I remember sitting here listening to you as you did your ridiculous experiments behind me. Our chats were always the most interesting, leading to any possible subject. Sometimes as I'd eat breakfast you'd call my name, expecting me to assist you, and scarily enough I always did. I lean my head back, resting it against the back of the chair as I close my eyes waiting for the imminent beep.

"John." My eyes fly back open to look in the direction of where your voice resounded. There you stand in the corner of the room, I hadn't even seen you there earlier. My heart cringes as I observe your face and I force my eyes back closed, relaxing myself back against the chair. It goes silent and I assume that yet again you've gone. "John." I hear again seconds later, although this time I feel a hand run through my hair, fondling with each strand it passes, the warmth of what I will always know as yours. "I came back John."

"Sherlock?!" I burst out of my seat, eyes widened and heart stopped. In the haste of my standing to my feet I accidentally knock you to your backside onto the carpet. "It's you! It can't be! But! I felt you! I don't imagine touch! I'm not that crazy!"

You groan slightly, brushing your hair out of your face with the back of your hand as you look up to me. "John, I..."

\---  
The end! Mwah!


End file.
